


A Big Fat Enormous Lie

by StoriesWhispered



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e10 I Am Become Death, F/M, Season 1, clarphy - Freeform, just a passing clarphy moment in season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7861036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesWhispered/pseuds/StoriesWhispered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was trying to get her to sleep, and she couldn’t come up with a better argument on why exactly she had left her cot to check on patients instead of lying in torturous pain waiting for death, so she let him.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or;</p>
<p>How Sirius Black lied to Clarke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Big Fat Enormous Lie

**Author's Note:**

> just a little Clarphy moment in Season 1

_Sirius Black is a liar_ , Clarke thought dazedly. 

The pain of dying was agonizing; the fever kept her in the uncomfortable state of warm, sticky and shivering despite her boiling blood. 

From her place on the floor, she had lost her fight with gravity some time in between checking on sick and trying to make more bandages, she realized she really wanted a magic wand. 

She felt more blood seeping from her eyes, momentarily blinding her and once again cursed the fictional character that had deceived her. 

“He was surrounded by soul sucking monsters for thirteen years, princess, he was clearly crazy.”

Clarke looked up into the eyes of John Murphy, who she apparently was having a conversation with, and clearly confused on why she was on the floor. 

“Dementors,” she shivered for the hundredth time. 

“That’s them,” he confirmed, nudging her with blanket, which she took gratefully, assessing him thoughtfully. 

“Thank you,” she whispered softly, eyes fluttering.

She saw his lips turn, eyeing her warily. 

“Don’t die,” he responded snarkily, his hand coming to check her temperature, with surprising gentleness. 

“Shit,” he muttered, he was shifting away from her, and she almost called him back, she wanted to know his favorite character. 

She was hit with a cloying wet smell that made her stomach turn, it came closer and she realized it was a wet rag when it hit her sizzling forehead. Despite the nausea, the relief was instantaneous, her eyes closed, body humming at the fresh coolness provided. 

“Malfoy was my favorite,” he answered, he was close, she realized and she reached blindly for him. 

He came willingly, sitting next to her as she burrowed into him, “Bellamy is going to kill me,” he paused, “again.”

She laughed, her lungs protesting with loud hacking coughs, still she managed, “he attempted to.”

It was his turn to hum, while she tried to recall what brought her to this point.

“Oh,” she suddenly remembered, “you’re not going to kill me right? Draco didn’t kill anyone.”

He laughed, like her argument wasn’t solid, “You’re burning up, princess, why don’t you sleep.”

“Sick people need help.” 

“You’re sick.”

He wasn’t wrong, as her bleeding eyeballs could attest to, so she deflected.

“My favorite was Luna.”

“Blondes got to stick together,” he muttered, “but you’re still sick.”

Damn.

He was trying to get her to sleep, and she couldn’t come up with a better argument on why exactly she had left her cot to check on patients instead of lying in torturous pain waiting for death, so she let him. 

Her legs gave out, stumbling into his arms, she patted them gently as he lowered her into her cot.

“You okay?”

“You’re the one with the fever, I’m fine.”

There was something in his voice that made her eyes snap open, mind clearing as she bore into him, he was hovering above her.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” she attempted to smile at him, he looked lost, she held him hand as firm as she could but she was already losing her train of thought, her brain fuzzy with pain.

“You’re not dying, princess, Sirius wouldn’t lie.” 

“Okay,” she said, believing him, mind growing darker as the pain exploded.

He muttered something, as his hands slid away from hers, but she couldn’t quite catch what it was, still she let him go. 

Later, when the pain dulled into the background and her fever broken, she made a note to ask him what his favorite magical creature was.

Until then, she would believe that this moment wasn’t death; this was just another day on the ground.


End file.
